


Come On Feel The Noise

by Sweedledome



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweedledome/pseuds/Sweedledome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke, Anya, Raven and Octavia form The Grounders, an up and coming band with everything going for them. Except Clarke's having trouble dealing with singing and playing at the same time. With a gig at the legendary Ton DC approaching, Anya's suggestion of a new guitarist seems like the only option. Rock band AU. Inspired by the drawing by systemflaw on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clarke In Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw the art work by systemflaw on Tumblr and I couldn’t not write this. All credit to them for the idea. Title is taken from the song ‘Cum On, Feel The Noize’ by Quiet Riot

Despite the callouses on her hands from many years of playing, Clarke can feel the dull sting of the metal cutting into her fingers. It’s like every vibration from the string shudders against the bone and it’s getting really hard to press against the fret with enough pressure to make sure there’s no excess reverb that’ll ruin the song. They’ve been at this for _hours_ to the point where the song has almost become unenjoyable and that’s means they’re pretty much fighting a losing battle already but they can’t stop because they’ve got the opportunity to play at _Ton fricking DC_ and that’s not something to take lightly.

 

The Grounders have only had low level gigs up until this point and that was fine because they were limited to two, three songs per session tops and Clarke can handle that level. A scout from Ton DC had attended their last gig however and offered them the option to play at the best underground club within a hundred mile radius and that’s seriously huge. That means no more playing it safe with easy melodies and short sets. They have to absolutely fucking _rock_ this thing.

 

Unfortunately it’s becoming apparent that more complicated material and a longer set list is wearing on Clarke’s ability to perform properly. Either she focuses too hard on what her fingers are doing and her voice cracks or she pays more attention to remembering the lyrics and her fingers lose the pattern she’s supposed to be playing. Regardless, the point is that Clarke eventually loses it and the song putters out into a disappointing clash of instruments sinking into an unenthusiastic silence. Things aren’t going too badly so far, Clarke’s hopeful with each bar they progress through. Maybe this time…

 

 

_The boys are back in town_

_(The boys are back in town)_

Clarke sings out, relishing the perfect way Raven and Anya harmoniously echo her, providing that perfect background push the song needs to make it better.

_I said the boys are back in town_

_(The boys are back in town)_

Everything is coming together, Clarke just needs to hold it together for a couple more minutes.

_The boys are back in town_

_(The boys are back in town)_

_The boys are back in town_

_(The boys are back in town)_

 

She makes it through the first riff okay. Clarke desperately tries to concentrate on keeping in time with the alternating singing and preparing herself for the next onslaught of chords but her mind is muddled as ever.

 

_Spread the word around_

_Guess who's back in town?_

The riff comes back around again and it should be a soul gratingly wonderful mesh of Octavia thumping away a quick rhythm on the drums and Clarke’s fingers making the fret her bitch…but she’s thinking about when she needs to starts singing again and her fingers slip and…ouch. The enraged sqwark that comes from her guitar actually hurts. Clarke can hear the sighs of her band mates as the instruments fade away into silence.

 

“FUCK.” She yells, removing the guitar and almost going to throw it down in frustration…but she doesn’t…because her guitar is her baby and no matter how upset Clarke gets, the guitar is to be handled lovingly. So she sets it down in its stand and listens to the painfully tired silence of her band mates trying not to be disappointed in her again.

 

“Again.” Anya says as Clarke knew she would. Anya’s never been one to give up, even when she really needs to.

 

“There’s no point, I can’t do it.”

 

“We’re all counting on you Clarke.” Octavia points out, running a tired hand over her eyes.

 

“I am doing the best that I can!” Clarke yells hopelessly.

 

“Well it’s not good enough!” Octavia yells back. It’s a hard truth but one that’s becoming increasingly apparent as the gig draws near and Clarke only seems to be getting worse with every practice. Each time she starts out determined that _this_ time she’s going to nail it and the first few songs always go great but as they progress on to more difficult stuff, Clarke always loses her footing trying to juggle song lyrics and guitar chords. The pressure she places upon herself only makes things worse until they always end up calling it quits for the day with a slightly bitter atmosphere. Clarke can’t remember the last time she actually left a band practice feeling like anything less than a failure.

 

“Guys!” Raven calls out, cutting off Clarke before she can retort. It’s a good thing Raven did because Clarke is drained and miserable and feeling inadequate and that means she was about to say something she doesn’t mean but that Octavia would have taken to heart any way. “Just stop okay? Arguing is going to get us nowhere.”

 

“Well what do you suggest?” Octavia mumbles petulantly.

 

“I think it’s pretty obvious what we need to do.” All three of them stare at Raven expectantly because it’s not obvious but Raven is so smart that often genius solutions that seem obvious to her need pointing out to the rest of the group. “We need to get a new guitarist.”

 

And instantly Clarke bristles. She’s been playing guitar since she was eleven years old. She’s put in the time and the effort, taken the callouses and the blisters that come with it but she is _good_ on guitar dammit. The same way she is good at singing. Just…not at the same time. Raven spots the brief flash of indignant pride that flashes over Clarke’s face and Clarke knows it’s not going to go un-confronted. “Look Clarke, you’re good okay? You’ve got one of the best voices I’ve ever heard and we all know you can handle a guitar but this whole thing is putting too much pressure on you. We started this band because we love music and we love making a crowd scream for more but that is not what’s happening right now. Stop trying to do it all for one second and let someone else do some off the lifting.”

 

Clarke lets her pride delate at that because Raven’s got more sense than is reasonable (except in her love life, Raven’s a fucking mess there…not that Clarke can really comment given her own history) and her words make sense.

 

“She’s right Clarke, maybe someone to share the load with?” Octavia says, voice softer now she’s had the chance to calm down. Even typically hostile Anya is nodding along which is bizarre because the only one Anya ever seems to be anything less than angry at is Clarke. She joined the band out of necessity and often Clarke has had to mediate spats between Anya and Raven and Octavia which is why Anya’s agreement with the two in this matter speaks volumes about how much it’s needed.

 

“You’re right.” Clarke agrees. “But who? We don’t have much time. We need someone who’s not only a good guitarist but who can blend in with our style and finding someone to match that in just eight days is going to be difficult.”

 

“I may know of someone.” Anya pipes up. Clarke is surprised. She’s still not entirely sure why Anya joined the band when she seemed to be completely adverse to the idea of getting on with any of them initially but she and Clarke have grown to have a mutual respect for each other. She gets when Anya is trying to be more open and this is one such occasion.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. I used to teach her guitar. She has a natural talent for it and we’re still close, I believe she will do this for me.” Anya states. Clarke chews briefly at her lip. Throwing an unknown player into the field at this stage in the game could end very badly but she doesn’t see that they have much option. Plus Clarke thinks it would be good to have someone there for Anya too. At the moment, Anya is the outsider because Clarke and Octavia and Raven have known each other since high school and someone personal to Anya there could balance the dynamic of the group a little better. She knows what she wants to do but she shoots a quick enquiring look at Raven and Octavia who nod back at her in confirmation that they’re on board. 

 

“Give her a ring, see how soon she can come audition. Tonight if possible, we can rest up until then.” Clarke says to Anya.

 

“Tonight? This is all moving pretty quick.” Octavia frowns.

 

“We don’t have an option. We’ve only got eight days left until Ton DC and we’ve all got jobs we need to work around. The sooner we get rehearsing the better.” Clarke says, hoping she’s made the right decision.

 

* * *

By some fortuitous twist of fate, Anya’s friend is free and is interested and is willing to come along and audition that very same night. Clarke’s still second guessing herself as they set up in their practice space and wait for the arrival of this Lexa that Anya assures them will be a positive addition to the band. Clarke absent mindedly twangs at the string of her Fender Stratocaster with love. It’s battered and beat and actually her second Fender Stratocaster after the first one had to be sent off for repairs to the whammy board so many times that Clarke barely had time to form any attachment to it. This one though? This one has seen her through thick and thin with very little complaint and she’s a little put out that she won’t be the one rocking away epic solos on it the way it deserves but she knows she’ll still have the opportunity to play it in her own time.

 

Raven’s ensuring all their electrical equipment is fully hooked up and ready to go (Clarke doesn’t understand how she copes with so many knobs and dials and leads and what not that she has to ensure are in exactly the right position to get exactly the right effect but Raven’s always been good with things like that so Clarke doesn’t question it), Octavia’s staring off into space but her hands are deftly twirling her sticks between them the way they always do and Anya’s examining some sheet music without a care in the world it seems.

 

Clarke’s just about to ask Anya when she thinks her friend will get here when her head snaps around to the sound of an opening door. Anya stands to greet the newcomer while Clarke is still stuck staring. They share some weird elbow grip thing which is about as affectionate as Clarke has ever seen Anya get with anyone so this girl must be something special to Anya. Clarke wonders how special. When they’re done murmuring to each other, her green eyes sweep around the room and Clarke feels herself being taken in by this stranger’s eyes much the same as Raven and Octavia.

 

“So you’re the ones who need a new guitarist.” Her words are firm and her face is nigh impossible to read but Clarke reckons she sees a flicker of nervousness there.

 

“Think you’re up to it?” Clarke challenges and instantly she sees a fire flare behind those green eyes.

 

“Of course.” Lexa states shortly. She removes her guitar case from her shoulder to ready herself. When she pulls her guitar from the soft lining, Clarke’s jaw drops and she drools because that is a Gibson Flying V and Clarke _wants._ She wants to lay her fingers all over that beauty but she knows that’s never going to happen because, if Lexa has even the slightest knowledge of guitars, she’ll be guarding that thing with her life.

 

If she’s turns out to be one of those people who just buys the most expensive guitar they can on the assumption it’s a good one though…well, there’s a very good chance Clarke will commit murder to claim that guitar as her own. Its deep red body is clearly custom made though which only adds to the serious amount Lexa must have spent on this guitar and Clarke knows that’s the mark of someone who knows what they’re doing, as if the scuff marks in particular places along its body weren’t a clear indicator of how much use it got.

 

It doesn’t take much time for Lexa to set up while Raven and Octavia examine her closely with Clarke. She clearly doesn’t feel the need to make much conversation other than a brief “I’m Lexa” while hooking up to an amp. They wait patiently for her to do all the necessary checks and when she’s done she looks over to Octavia who is still meticulously twirling a drumstick between her fingers as she slouches on her stool.

 

“Would it be okay to ask for some percussion? It works better with a drum accompaniment.” She asks and Clarke nods, curious about what this girl is going to produce. She doesn’t miss the quirk of amusement appearing at Anya’s lips which only heightens her curiosity. Lexa goes over to Octavia where they have a brief, quiet discussion and the only thing Clarke can glean from it is a surprised look on Octavia’s face and an “are you sure?” that Lexa nods to.

 

Clarke’s still not sure about this girl who has yet to utter more than five syllables in one sitting and how well they’ll get on. Being a good lead guitarist isn’t just about hitting all the right notes, it’s about passion and Lexa so far hasn’t given any indication that she could be passionate about anything at all. Regardless, Clarke gives an affirmative nod when Lexa enquires if she should start.

 

And she does.

 

And Clarke knows what she’s playing in a matter of seconds.

 

There’s no way…

 

But there is.

 

Because Lexa is effortlessly dancing her way through Joe Satriani’s ‘Surfing With The Alien’ like it’s no big deal. More than that, without a single beforehand practice, she’s blending in with Octavia’s determined beats like they belong together. As Lexa’s fingers fly up and down the frets, Clarke spends her time thinking she won’t be able to complete the next section but then Lexa does and she does it with _flair._

The electric sound flying from that guitar merely seems like an extension of Lexa’s body and Clarke feels her jaw drop even harder than it did when she saw Lexa’s guitar because Lexa is _owning_ this. Clarke can feel it pulsing through her and she wants to smash something with how fucking awesome everything feels right now. She needs no assurance on how the rest of the band feels given that Raven is sitting there open mouthed, Octavia’s drumming along with a wide smile plastered all over her face and Anya’s got that knowing smirk that says Clarke should have known better than to doubt her. This is what they need, this is what they’ve been missing even if Clarke didn’t know it. She stares at those dexterous fingers powerfully commanding the music and marvels.

 

When the growling strings of the guitar finally fade away, Clarke can only stare into Lexa’s uncompromisingly green eyes and think on how good those fingers might be at something other than hammering away at frets and _fuck._

Clarke is in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used are ‘The Boys Are Back In Town’ by Thin Lizzy and ‘Surfing With The Alien’ by Joe Satriani.


	2. Looking Out For Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: In the last chapter I had Anya say ‘I do not know if she still plays’ but I’ve gone back and edited that now. Anya is fully aware of the fact that Lexa is still, and always has practiced guitar. I need it for future chapters in case any of you were confused by this change.

The difference in practice these days is remarkable. Before it felt like work. Like blood and sweat and tears all poured together in desperation for something better. Now Clarke can remember what it’s like to love what she does. To finish off rehearsal with a decidedly corny leap into the air as they close the last song without a single slip up.

 

Raven and Octavia let out a happy woop in agreement at Clarke’s enthusiasm, the most she gets from Anya and Lexa is a small smile but that’s tantamount to burning down a small town in excitement as far as they go so Clarke will take that subtle praise with open arms. They share a brief discussion about how practice had gone and what else they could do to be better (the conclusion is not much given that that was fucking epic) before they begin packing up.

 

Clarke allows her eyes to drift over to where Lexa is methodically wrapping a lead around her arm. She’s not spoken to Lexa a huge amount outside of music talk to be honest, probably something to do with that hugely inconvenient crush she seems to have developed on the stoic guitarist. Getting involved with another member of the band is only asking for trouble. Just look at how well that worked out for ABBA. It’s not even like they hang out outside of practice or anything, it’s just that Clarke can’t stop glancing Lexa’s way. Sometimes when she looks over to see what Lexa is doing now, she thinks she catches Lexa‘s eyes on her but the gaze is gone so quickly that it’s far more likely Lexa was just glancing around the room and their eyes happened to meet.

 

Instead of going over to the brunette, Clarke makes her way to Raven who she notices is stretching out her stiff leg in discomfort and trying to get the brace to sit better. Raven mumbles a quiet thanks in Clarke’s direction as she begins packing up Raven’s things while Raven sits to give her leg a break. She’d been extremely hostile to anyone attempting to help her do things after the car crash, determined she could do it all herself…but time had eased Raven to the idea of accepting help when she was struggling. As she’s placing Raven’s equipment in the appropriate casing, Clarke feels a peculiar prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She instinctively turns around to see Lexa’s vivid green eyes on her but Lexa’s gaze predictably drops back to her guitar as soon as she sees Clarke looking her way.

 

Clarke thinks the encounter may have gone unnoticed but Raven’s devious countenance suggests otherwise. She’d been hoping to keep her attraction to Lexa under the radar but that’s just gone out the window with Raven’s annoyingly fantastic aptitude for picking up on things.

 

“Hey, what’s everyone doing after this?” She calls out to the others and Clarke hopes Raven’s not going where she thinks she is with this. Octavia just shrugs in reply.

 

“I have no plans.” Lexa says.

 

“Me either, why?” Anya adds, sometimes their similarly short attitudes are a little unnerving.

 

“I was just thinking that we should all spend some time together. We’ve been killing it in practice but the Ton DC gig is only a couple of days away now and we haven’t really spent any time together except in practice. We should do something.” Raven says and Clarke wants to groan. Before she can shut the idea down with some lame excuse about getting their rest of whatever, Raven sends a pointed look to Octavia, eyes flickering between Lexa and Clarke. Within seconds Octavia has caught on and Clarke knows nothing she says now is going to stop this because, while she may be able to hold back Raven or Octavia individually, once they’re both on the war path there is no stopping them. They’ve both been determined to get her back out into the dating field since that whole unfortunate business with Finn and now an opportunity is rearing its ugly head, there’s no way either of them will back off from this.

 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe we should all go back to Clarke’s for a drink.” Octavia suggests, mischievousness twinkling all about her as she takes in Clarke’s defeated appearance with relish.

 

“I’m not opposed to that.” Lexa says.

 

“Sounds good.” Anya agrees and like that Clarke’s in for an entirely unexpected evening with her crush, two extremely meddlesome friends and...whatever the hell she can count as Anya in this situation.

 

* * *

 

 

A couple of beers and a few hours has Clarke no less nervous than she was walking in to the door of her apartment followed by the other four girls. Through some extremely happy trick of fate, Clarke had seen fit to actually give the place a bit of a spontaneous tidy up earlier that day. Normally her flat is covered in a random of array of clothing and various take out containers but the recent success of the band’s practices had led her to wake up feeling motivated and clean which resulted in a full on apartment spritz. Yeah, she did mopping and everything. It’s pretty much the only reason Clarke even allowed this little soiree to happen because god forbid she let Lexa anywhere near the atrocity that is typically her apartment.

 

It’s been a peculiar few hours. Clarke had expected all levels of awkward and maybe a bit of unintended embarrassment on her part but so far things have flowed kind of smoothly. There was an initial discomfort but it faded away as Octavia determinedly battled on with conversation. If there’s one thing Clarke can truly appreciate about Octavia, it’s her adaptability. It seems that no matter what situation Octavia is dropped into, she has a true strength of spirit that refuses to let her do anything other than get on with things.

 

At first it was just Octavia but eventually the alcohol got rid of a few inhibitions that made small talk seem so difficult and then conversation rolled with the kind of passion it only can when every single participant is equally as invested in the subject matter. Different tracks, different artists, the pros and cons of different instruments, overrated bands and underrated bands and then, for some completely indiscernible reason, it moved to whether whales or dolphins are the more remarkable inhabitant of the ocean. While the three of them and Anya had performed perfectly well together, there was never this level of connection from everyone before. Raven’s suggestion they hang out is turning out to be a fantastic one because Clarke can feel them becoming a _band_ as opposed to a group of independent musicians who sometimes play together.

 

The only downside is that all the new information Clarke has gleaned about Lexa this evening has done nothing to resolve her little crush. Instead it’s only heightened things which is so not what Clarke wanted. What Clarke had taken for a lack of emotion from Lexa is actually just someone with a slightly more guarded mind frame than usual. She does feel though, Clarke can see it any time she’s drawn in by the subject matter enough to offer an input but only tiny little things have been slipping through and now Clarke wants to see more of what Lexa keeps locked away.

 

Anya and Raven and Octavia suddenly get involved in an intense debate over whether or not listening to something on vinyl adds anything to a track or if it’s just a hopelessly outdated listening device and blunder off in the direction of Clarke’s own record player (Raven and Octavia are at Clarke’s so often that they pretty much treat the place as their own) to lay this argument to rest once and for all. They take the beer with them which Clarke should probably stop considering that is her precious music they’re heading towards but it doesn’t look like Lexa is going to move and if Clarke doesn’t move either then they’ll be alone together…which is exactly what happens.

 

So then it’s just Lexa and Clarke trying not to make it obvious how they’re not looking at each other.

 

Maybe it’s the beer that gives her courage, maybe it’s just that she can’t stand the distinct lack of conversation between herself and Lexa anymore when the others are so clearly getting along…but when Clarke sees Lexa’s eyes flicker to a particular guitar slung on the wall, Clarke stands to fetch it down. It seems bizarre that Lexa’s eyes went to this one given that there are some fancier ones hanging up but Clarke doesn’t question it. She silently hands over the guitar to Lexa who holds it reverently and seats herself opposite the green eyed mystery.

 

“This was your first ever guitar wasn’t it?” Lexa questions.

 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

 

“I think you can always tell. There’s always one guitar that’s different.” Clarke smiles at that and doesn’t miss the added caution Lexa treats her guitar with. A black bodied Ovation Celebrity with a mother of pearl inlay around the sound hole, Clarke had seen it with her heart at twelve and, as Clarke’s father soon found out, turning down a wide eyed mini Clarke is a difficult thing to do. She’d learnt her first chords on that thing, written her first song, played until her fingers bled for the first time. Yeah, it’s pretty special to her. Clarke sits opposite Lexa as she puts it in tune.

 

“Play me something?” Lexa nods and goes to play…then she hesitates and reaches for one of the nearby capos that are always carelessly flung on some surface in Clarke’s apartment along with an assortment of plectrums. Clarke studies her curiously as she slides it into position on the fourth fret, takes in a subtle breath, then starts an impossible torrent of notes that sounds like it _has_ to be more than one guitar playing. Clarke’s stunned eyes are giving her evidence to the contrary because it’s only Lexa and the one guitar right now. It’s intriguing, the music speaks to Clarke of sorrow and a slight wistfulness that conjures a story of lost love to mind in her head. She sits enraptured by the way Lexa moves and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t breathe again until Lexa finishes with a cautious look, waiting to see what Clarke thinks. “That…that was incredible. What was that?”

 

“I wrote it. The basics came to me easily one day a couple of years ago and I’ve been adding to it ever since but I still can’t complete it. It doesn’t sound finished.” As amazing as that was, Clarke has to agree. The music is fine, fantastic even…but there’s not much more there when Lexa’s already doing everything she can to the poor instrument. No, this piece of music is begging to have something vocalised. The words that had instinctively sprung to mind as Lexa played the first time begin to take form.

 

“Play it again?” Clarke asks. Lexa frowns at her but acquiesces. She makes it through the opening uninterrupted but then her head snaps up as Clarke’s mouth opens and she begins singing.

 

_Been looking out for looo-ohove,_

_In the night so stiiii-ihiiill,_

_Oh I’ll build you a kingdom,_

_In that house on the hill._

Lexa’s smile is all that’s needed to encourage Clarke to move from the soft, low timbre she’s been using into a more powerful cry, allowing emotion to seep through into her voice in keeping with the music.

 

_Looking out for loooooo-ohuh-hoove,_

_Big big looooooo-ohuh-hoove._

_You say loving-_ wait, no…that’s not it” Clarke cuts off mid note, Lexa following seconds after as Clarke tries to puzzle through the words. She’s got a good mind for lyrics but her brain can only process so fast and this is the kind of thing Clarke wants to get right. Lexa’s been working on this a long time, that much is obvious from the practiced ease with which she played. Clarke’s not going to half-arse the verbal part of this because she’s impatient. Frankly it’s a miracle that she was able to come up with the first verse on the spot the way she had but the music inspired her in a way Clarke’s not been inspired in a while.

 

Lexa’s looking at her intensely and Clarke knows they can both feel the spark. The crackle of creative energy colliding as they sit and excitedly work through possible directions this could go in. Adjustments need to be made to the music too to allow room for the lyrics which, thankfully, Lexa doesn’t seem offended by, just eager to incorporate Clarke’s ideas. A minor key change perhaps to suit Clarke’s voice better? And a swapping of lyrics there because Lexa thinks it doesn’t fit with the song. Clarke frantically grabs a pen and a bit of scrap paper to jot down everything they’re coming up with right now because this kind of motivation needs seizing while it’s still around.

 

Together they sit huddled and share the feeling that this is going to be good. Somewhere around the hour mark, Clarke realises she has no idea what the others are up to and she’s not entirely sure she wants to know. Despite the fact that they’re sitting in the middle of a general living area and one of the others could walk in at any moment, this whole thing feels deeply private. A moment of creation that only she and Lexa can share. As if to prove her right, fate doesn’t allow any of the others interrupt whatever artistic mood she and Lexa have tapped in to…or maybe it’s Octavia and Raven keeping Anya away to give them some private time, Clark never figures out which one it is.

 

Once they finally agree that this is as good as they’re going to get another hour later, they track down the other three and haul them back in to listen. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning when everyone is a little more sober and they can listen with fresh ears but Clarke and Lexa can’t contain their exhilaration about sharing this with their friends. Raven and Octavia seat themselves on the opposite couch to listen but Anya stands intimidatingly over them. That’s one thing about her fellow Grounders, nobody in the group ever pulls any punches in terms of criticism because it’s just not who they are. That’s why they progressed so quickly together, because there were never any half-truths or dancing around the point when it comes to what could be improved.

 

Of course, it does mean showing anything new is pretty much voluntarily throwing yourself to the wolves which makes Clarke a little nervous as they begin. Raven closes her eyes which Clarke knows is good sign because she does that whenever she wants to really take a new bit of music in. Octavia remains a little harder to read until Lexa goes into her solo and then she sits slack jawed as Lexa doesn’t even bother to look down at what her hands are doing while she’s producing music that Clarke still feels, even after two hours of hearing it, shouldn’t be possible. Anya says nothing and does nothing until the very end when Lexa silently looks over to her.

 

“Good. I like it.” She barks, then topples sideways. Judging by the spread eagled way she lays unmoving on the floor, she has perhaps had a little too much to drink.

 

“She was supposed to be my ride home.” Lexa frowns.

 

“Well, looks like we’re having a band slumber party.” Clarke sighs, already moving to get her spare bedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the fantastic response I’ve received for this fic. The song Clarke and Lexa play is ‘Big Love’ by Fleetwood Mac but the live version. The one I always listen to is entitled 'Fleetwood Mac - Big Love (Live: The Dance)' and was uploaded by 'tokyovogue' on YouTube if you want to listen to it. I still remember my dad playing it for me when I was little and just sitting there like ‘what? WHAT? How are you doing this? What is this magic? WHAT?’


	3. Ton DC

When Clarke wakes, all her grandiose first morning thoughts about putting her cooking skills to good use and making a hearty breakfast for her band mates goes flying out the window when she sees the sofas formerly occupied by Lexa and Anya are now only host to a small pile of neatly folded blankets. Further examination reveals a tidy little note on her fridge thanking her for her hospitality and wishing her well for the day. It’s probably just as well really because, as Raven and Octavia will happily testify, Clarke doesn’t actually possess any cooking skills and she’d be far more likely to give them all food poisoning than a nice breakfast. Even Anya had taken the ‘welcome to the band!’ muffins Clarke had made for her as some sort of thinly veiled insult because it didn’t seem possible that anyone could make something taste _that_ awful unintentionally.

 

Clarke moves with all the stealth of a ninja as she navigates her apartment in search of her work uniform. Octavia isn’t so much of a concern, it’d take a full marching brass band complete with trumpeting elephant invading the place to wake her before eleven, but enough noise will wake Raven up and with an awake Raven will come the inevitable slew of enquiries about exactly how well she and Lexa had gotten on last night. (Clarke’s not ready to admit that to herself, let alone another person).

 

By the time Raven and Octavia do eventually emerge from their respective make shift beds, Clarke’s already been at work for two hours and the most they get by way of information is their own fridge note instructing them to help themselves to something to eat, as if they wouldn’t have anyway. Clarke gets a few text messages from them through the day which, when ignored, transition from gentle enquiry to promises of making Clarke sit down and face interrogation about what exactly is happening. It would be extremely helpful if Clarke had any clue what actually is happening herself.

 

She’s not an idiot. She knows there was a chemistry between herself and Lexa last night but she can’t be certain what it means. Both on Lexa’s end and her own. It’s times like this Clarke is grateful for her job, despite not becoming a doctor, as is her mother’s wish, Clarke still enjoys making use of all the medical know-how that’s been instilled into her since she was young. Being a first aider allows her a peace of mind because it’s so easy, it’s second nature to her at this point to assess a wound and treat it. There is one clear path, make the patient better. It doesn’t involve any of this stupid feelings nonsense that her brain won’t let go.

 

As she’s enjoying a sandwich at lunch, she gets an epiphany. Lexa is attractive, of course she is. Lexa is attractive and Clarke hasn’t shared so much as a flirtatious glance with anyone in roughly a year now. It’s not anything to do with emotions or liking Lexa as a person, obviously. She just wants in Lexa’s pants. That’s all there is to it. End of story. Nothing more to discuss.

 

With that particular question solved, Clarke’s mind drifts to things like chord progressions and matching lyrics designed to blow the senses. To notes and octaves and pitches and if her mind happens to dart in the direction of the way those eyes examined her last night, Clarke quickly hurries it back onto a musical path without much delay. For the first time since they’d got the call from the manager of Ton DC, Clarke begins to feel like they may actually be worthy of this opportunity and spends the day in high spirits as she anticipates practice that evening.

 

* * *

 

 

“Let’s check the amps again.”

 

“Clarke, I swear on my synthesisers, if you don’t chill out then I am going to punch you.” Raven states bluntly. That’s a little rude. She only wants to make sure nothing’s happened to the amps in the last...Clarke looks at her watch, five minutes and thirty nine seconds since she last checked them. Okay, maybe Raven has a point. They’ve hit that awkward time now. All the sound checks have been done, they’ve had their allotted time to practice on the main stage to get used to the acoustics of the room and there’s absolutely nothing to do now except wait for the crowds to arrive. Except Clarke can’t do that because it’s not within her to relax with something so important coming up. All the warm fuzzy feelings she’d had of being prepared for this occasion were noticeably absent when she woke up this morning and are refusing to make a reappearance.

 

Tonight they’ll be playing to at least two thousand people and if it goes badly there’s a very good chance they’ll be overrun by an angry mob demanding their money back. Clarke keeps going over and over things because she doesn’t know what else to do. Octavia’s lax attitude isn’t helping matters, one of the techies from Ton DC helping them set up earlier had caught her eye and it’s been very hard getting her to focus. Even now she’s making goo goo eyes at Lincoln who is rigging up another light with far more flexing than Clarke is sure is really necessary. Clarke’s tempted to go over to her and make sure she’s done all her equipment checks but that would only result in an irate Octavia telling her to back the hell off because she knows Octavia has done her equipment checks, she saw her doing it earlier, it’s just that…Clarke wants to check again. Make absolutely sure.

 

A gentle hand on her shoulder halts her before she can move. She follows the hand to its owner to see Lexa looking at her sternly.

 

“You must rest.”

 

“I will, I just need to go-“

 

“No Clarke.” Lexa cuts her off, already knowing what Clarke wants to go do. “You’ve done all you can. You will only tire yourself out if you continue in this manner.”

 

“I’m just worried, aren’t you worried?”

 

“Of course I am.” Lexa says, appearing about as unworried as it’s possible for a person to be. “But we’ve done everything that needs doing. _You’ve_ done everything that needs doing three times over. I find that constantly checking things only serves to increase my nerves.”

 

“Well that’s you, not me, so-“ Clarke begins turning to signify that she’s done here.

 

“What time did you wake this morning?” Lexa asks, refusing to let the conversation drop. Clarke pauses for a moment, then sighs.

 

“…five.”

 

“Our set goes on until one in the morning Clarke. At the moment the biggest danger to our performance is you not having the energy to pull it off.”

 

“But…”

 

“And if you don’t calm down then you’ll disrupt the others too.” Lexa points out, making Clarke frown.

 

“What? How am I-“

 

“They look to you Clarke. You are their leader-“

 

“I am not.” Clarke protests. “We formed this band as a group.”

 

“No.” Lexa argues back, shocking Clarke into silence. “Raven and Octavia follow your lead Clarke whether you want to admit it or not. Even Anya’s been checking in with you about what she needs to do, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

 

“I never asked them to.” Clarke mumbles after a beat.

 

“But they do and that’s something you can’t change any more than they can. If you’re panicked then they will become panicked. You must be strong for them and you cannot do that without taking care of yourself a little.

 

“Well what do you suggest I do?” Clarke huffs, giving in. She doesn’t feel so bad about it when Lexa’s mouth quirks up at the corners in victory and, when she speaks again, it’s in a gentler voice.

 

“Follow me, there is a reasonably comfortable couch in the staff room. You can rest there.”

 

Clarke obediently follows Lexa on through to the aforementioned couch, thinking the entire time about how there is no way she’s going to be able to sleep. It’s the last thought going through her head when it hits the soft surface of a cushion as she falls fast asleep five seconds later.

 

* * *

 

 

It seems only moments later that she jerks awake but in reality it’s a couple of hours. She starts out angry and panicked because the others had only seen fit to wake her half an hour before they were due to go on. It turns out, however, that getting dressed, applying make-up, doing one last final check to assuage her fear etc takes pretty much half an hour dead on. Clarke doesn’t have the chance to get really worked up about it because there just isn’t time. So now they’re here, minutes away from what can only be described as their make or break moment.

 

Clarke looks the others over as they stand in the wings waiting for the all clear to go on and her stomach burbles a little less violently at how great they look. Anya and Lexa have both decked themselves out with some serious black paint patterns that should look tacky but Clarke finds it both fiercely intimidating and wildly beautiful at the same time (Lexa kinda looks like she could kill someone if the mood took her and it’s sending Clarke’s thoughts in the direction of a bed and some handcuffs and nakedness and…no, dammit, inappropriate, hold it together Griffin).

 

Octavia obviously likes the look too because she’s allowed them to decorate her arms with just enough swirling blackness to highlight the contours of muscles defined by years of percussion. She looks like she’s ready to go into battle at any moment, they all do actually. Even Raven, who is untouched by the designs, but she always looks ready to go in to battle anyway. Her face kinda just does that of its own volition. Instead her signature piece is the lucky NASA shirt she only brings out on special occasions and it makes Clarke smile because that’s _so_ Raven. She wonders if her own typical black leather jacket and low cut blue shirt are letting things down but the others assure her she looks ready to kick some serious ass. She only really feels ready to lightly prod buttock at best as she chances a glance around the curtain shielding them to the stage.

 

Ton DC is a weird venue. At surface level it’s just a hexagonally designed block of flats with a courtyard open to the sky in the middle, pretty grotty and run down and unimpressive to look at. Below the surface though? That’s another matter entirely. Three levels of concrete hexagons circling an exposed central area. The platform is in the centre of the lower most ring with nothing but wide open space above it, stretching up to the highest ring.

 

There is room for about a hundred people on the same floor as where the band will be performing but everybody else will look down on them from the upper rings and there’s only a single wall behind them. They’ll be surrounded on all three sides with many faces towering over them, all those people expectantly waiting for something special. It’s an intimidating sight to walk out on to and the prospect is almost enough to send Clarke scurrying back home.

 

But when she glances behind to estimate the distance to the nearest fire exit, she sees four faces looking hopefully at her. Raven’s hand comes up to deliver an affirmative squeeze to her shoulder and that’s all she needs.

 

“Let’s do this thing.” She murmurs. Okay, it’s not the greatest pep talk in the history of the world but it seems to do the trick. Clarke signals Lincoln and he plunges the entire place into blackout darkness so they can take their place on stage initially unnoticed. The hubbub of noise dies away until there is only the sound of shivering anticipation hanging in the air. It mingles with the stench of sweat and beer and people and Clark takes it all in as she swallows against the impossible dryness of her mouth.

 

Lexa’s guitar rings out in the blackness. It cuts clear and true into the silence and echoes against the walls as Lincoln brings the lights up on stage in time for the other instruments to join in. The heat from them is incredible, lighting Clarke up and almost blinding her with their intensity. The music pulses through her as she opens her mouth to sing and the crowd _roar_ with approval at the opening. It’s so loud that Clarke can feel her trousers vibrating against her leg in time with the beat.

 

She’s served many lack lustre gigs of bored faces murmuring about a trip to the toilet or going to get another drink just under her music. Gigs of disappointment and dwindling enthusiasm with an inability to lock in on _it…._ whatever _it_ is exactly that hooks people in, captivates them.

 

Tonight though? Clarke feels in possession of all the _it_ in the world.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa blasting out a beautifully strangled guitar growl.

 

Raven working her way fluidly up and down the keyboard.

 

Octavia going decidedly mental on the drums.

 

Anya thrumming out that low level bass to round the whole thing off.

 

And Clarke?

 

Clarke is pushing her vocal chords to the very limit as she sings furiously in to the mic.

 

For every bad moment she’s had, Clarke no longer cares because it has all been part of some grand scheme of life leading her to this point. Now there is only sheer, unadultered, fully incomprehensible _rock_. Everything else can go suck it.

 

_This must be just like livin' in paradise!_

_(just like paradise!)_

As the words are echoed back to her by her bandmates, Clarke can’t help but think how true those words are right now.

_And I don't wanna go ho-ome_

_(wow, hey hey)_

 

This is what it’s all about. This is the same feeling she got at five years old listening to her dad’s crackling records and bouncing around the living room to music that spoke straight to her soul. To Queen and Van Halen and Steve Vai and Jimi Hendrix and all the legends who made her feel invincible with their instruments. She feels invincible now as they close with a fantastic mess that is both wildly unpredictable and perfectly choreographed until they hit that final note.

 

_(Just like paradise, just like)_

_THIS MUST BE JUST LIKE LIVIN’ IN PARADISE!_

 

Lincoln sends the place back into darkness and Clarke can’t see anything. She can only _hear._

What she hears is the sound of people screaming for more.

 

Only Anya giving her a little nudge is enough to remind her that she does actually need to leave the stage at some point. They all exit backstage for the second time that evening (the audience had called them back out for an encore. An _encore_ ), over heated, over tired and _trembling_ from the sheer exertion of their performance. It feels fucking brilliant. Raven clasps her in a firm hug that’s too tight and, ugh, pretty sweaty but Clarke can search for all the fucks she gives later. She hugs back with just as much enthusiasm as the thundering bellows of the crowd refuse to die.

 

“Not bad for a princess.” A familiar voice drawls out behind them. Raven and Clarke separate to see an old friend smirking at them. Clarke didn’t think she could get any happier but life seems to be all about surprising her this evening.

 

“Bellamy?! What are you doing here?”

 

“My little sister gets a gig at Ton DC and you think I’m not going to turn up?” He drawls out. “Where is O anywa-“ Bellamy’s face blanches as the cursory look he gives around them answers his own question. “I did not need to see that.” He grumbles and Clarke turns to see what his eyes are now avoiding. She’s got to hand it to Octavia, the girl doesn’t waste any time. She’s firmly wrapped around Lincoln the techie and it doesn’t look like they’re going to be separating any time soon.

 

“Whoo! Get some O!” Raven cheers the happy drummer. Bellamy clearly doesn’t agree.

 

“No. No, don’t get some. You can stop that now!” Octavia doesn’t even do him the courtesy of separating her face from Lincoln’s to send her brother the middle finger.

 

“Want a hug?” Clarke asks a traumatised Bellamy.

 

“Yes please.” He pleads, so Clarke steps forward onto her tip toes to wrap her arms around his neck while his circle her midriff. Oh if her younger self could see her now, she’d be screaming in horror. Bellamy and Clarke hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best start when a tie in the school election had named them joint student president. What followed was a clashing of personalities so forceful that people actually hid whenever they saw the two in the same hallway because it was bound to end in a screaming match and then there was that one time some chairs were thrown. They had, however, eventually softened them to each other, turned into a co-dependent team that ended up in a friendship.

 

They don’t usually hug but she hasn’t seen Bellamy in three months now since he went to do that internship at Mount Weather Records and she’s feeling pretty damn high on life so this can be one of the exceptions. “You’re sweaty.” He complains. Wrong thing to say because Raven joins in from the back, trapping him reluctantly into a very moist hug.

 

“Deal with it meat bag.” She grins into the space between his shoulder blades as he squirms. For all his protesting, he still keeps a casual arm draped around Clarke’s shoulders when they separate in a comfortable show of familiarity

 

“Lexa, Anya, this is Bellamy. Octavia’s older brother. We went to school together.” Clarke introduces, as Lexa gazes cooly at them. Obviously the high of their performance has already worn off because there’s no sign of the grin Clarke could have sworn she saw the guitarist sporting as they left the stage. At least Anya still looks in good spirits. She opens her mouth to question if Lexa is okay but what comes out is a kind of raspy gurgle and it feels like she’s been eating sandpaper all day.

 

“Clarke?” Bellamy removes his arm from her to figure out if she’s okay.

 

“Here. Drink this.” Lexa says softly, approaching Clarke with a water bottle. Clarke lets out a noise that might be a ‘thank you’ but it’s lost amongst the little coughs she’s forced to give by her body. Clarke drinks deeply from the bottle, feeling the fire slowly recede.

 

“Ugh, thanks Lexa. My throat. It’s pretty sore.” She says, wincing at how weak her voice is right now and trying not to take comfort from the concerned hand Lexa has laid on her arm.

 

“On the plus side, now we have an excuse to go for a drink.” Bellamy chimes in.

 

“I think the way we played is more than enough of an excuse already. We must celebrate.” Anya replies with a smirk.

 

“Very true. Come on O, time to lea….O?” Bellamy enquires searchingly after his sister but she and Lincoln are nowhere to be seen. “Never should have let her leave home.” Bellamy mutters darkly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used is 'Just Like Paradise' by David Lee Roth

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found at sweedledome.tumblr.com


End file.
